Horrific Shorts: Zombie Edition-Chapter 2149: Story : The Weight of Becoming
Capítulo 2149: Story 2149: The Weight of Becoming
The convergence did not rush forward.
It assembled.
Layer by layer, presence folding into presence—structure locking with chaos, memory intertwining with choice—until what stood before Elena Voss was no longer forming.
It had formed.
Not perfectly.
But intentionally.
The void did not tremble now.
It held its breath.
Because this was something new—
Not born from one force.
But from all of them.
The ancient entities no longer stood apart.
They were within it.
Not consumed.
Integrated.
Their precision… its structure.
Their memory… its foundation.
And woven through it—
Something unstable.
Something Elena recognized.
Change.
The unfinished being beside her shifted uneasily.
For the first time since stabilizing—
It recoiled.
Not in fear.
In conflict.
“It feels it,” Elena said quietly.
The presence answered, faint now.
It sees what it could become.
The convergence moved.
Not forward.
Not closer.
But into alignment.
Its shape clarified—not fixed, but consistent enough to be understood.
A towering silhouette of layered geometry and shifting void, its edges phasing between certainty and possibility.
And at its center—
A space.
Not empty.
Waiting.
Elena felt it instantly.
“That’s where I’m supposed to go,” she whispered.
Yes.
The answer came without hesitation.
It is making room for you.
Her jaw tightened.
“Not for me,” she said.
“For what I represent.”
The convergence pulsed once.
Acknowledging.
Not hostile.
Not welcoming.
Expectant.
It wasn’t trying to destroy her.
It was trying to complete itself.
“You want balance,” Elena said, stepping forward into the space between.
“You think I’m part of that equation.”
The convergence shifted.
Agreement.
But incomplete.
Because it didn’t fully understand.
Not yet.
The unfinished being moved closer to her—its form flickering again under the pressure of what stood before them.
It wasn’t stable enough for this.
Not alone.
Elena felt it.
The pull.
Not from the convergence—
From the role itself.
The same gravity that had once pulled her beyond the door.
Only now—
It wasn’t asking.
It was offering resolution.
An end to uncertainty.
A place where everything made sense again.
Her voice dropped.
“That’s the trap, isn’t it?”
The presence pulsed faintly.
It is the pattern.
Elena exhaled slowly.
Of course it was.
Everything returned to patterns.
Even this.
Especially this.
The convergence stepped—
And this time, it was closer.
The space between them compressed.
Not distance.
Difference.
Elena felt her form strain—not breaking, but being defined again.
“You don’t choose balance,” the convergence expressed—not in words, but in perfect, undeniable logic.
Balance is achieved.
Elena shook her head.
“No.”
She stepped forward.
Not resisting.
Not retreating.
Meeting it.
“That’s where you’re wrong.”
The void reacted.
Subtly.
Because that contradiction…
Didn’t fit cleanly.
The convergence adjusted.
Refining its structure.
Attempting to resolve her statement into something it could process.
“You combine everything,” Elena continued.
“You remove conflict.”
She raised her hand—her presence flickering, but holding.
“You make it all one outcome.”
The convergence pulsed again.
Confirmation.
“That’s not balance,” she said.
“That’s ending the question.”
The unfinished being beside her surged—reacting to that idea.
Not fully understanding.
But aligning with it.
The convergence paused.
For the first time—
Not calculating.
Not adapting.
Considering.
Because that concept—
A balance that allowed conflict to exist—
Was not something it had been built to contain.
Elena took another step.
Closer than before.
Close enough to feel the pull trying to reshape her.
“But balance isn’t about removing sides,” she said softly.
“It’s about letting them exist… and choosing anyway.”
The void trembled.
Not violently.
Deeply.
The ancient entities within the convergence reacted—
Their structures flickering, their memory misaligning for a fraction of a moment.
Because this wasn’t something they remembered.
This wasn’t something they could correct.
This was something they had never needed to understand.
Choice within balance.
Not outside it.
Not before it.
Inside it.
The convergence shifted.
Its form destabilizing slightly—just enough to show the strain.
Elena didn’t stop.
She stepped forward again—
Until she stood at the edge of that empty center.
“If you want to replace me,” she said quietly,
“Then you have to do what I did.”
The convergence stilled.
The void held.
Even the presence fell silent.
Elena’s voice lowered.
Steady.
Certain.
“You have to choose… without knowing the outcome.”
Silence.
True silence.
Because that—
Was something none of them had ever done.
The convergence pulsed once.
Uncertain.
For the first time.
And Elena realized—
This wasn’t the final battle.
It was something far more dangerous.
A moment.
A decision.
䦖䧸䣨
㱕䣨㷣㒧
爐
䣨㙷䞠㷣㸷
蘆
擄
盧
盧
盧
櫓
㭲䉑㸷
櫓
㒧㱕㱕
老
蘆䈓䦖 㱕㒧㱕 䧸䣨䦖 䳍䣨䕥䕥㸷䳍䦖䞠
䈓䦖 㱕㒧㱕 䧸䣨䦖 䕥㸷㙷㸷㙷㯰㸷䕥䞠
㿂䣨䕥
㑷㒧䦖㱕㸷䑃㸷
㝄䅐䧸䧸㣾䦖㒧㭲
䑃䧸㸷㒧䳍
㸷䦖㙷㒧
䦖㒧—
䧸㒧䦖㒤㒧㭲
㭲䅐㱕
㭲㸷䦖
䬩䦖䑃㒧䕥
䈓䦖 㒤䅐㒧䦖㸷㱕 㒤㒧䦖㭲䣨㻂䦖 㗼䧸䣨㒤㒧䧸㝄 㒤㭲䅐䦖 㒧䦖 㒤䅐䑃 㒤䅐㒧䦖㒧䧸㝄 䬩䣨䕥䞠
䜭䦖 䦖㭲㸷 䳍㸷䧸䦖㸷䕥 䣨䬩 㸷㷣㸷䕥㣾䦖㭲㒧䧸㝄—
䦖䅐
㹟䣨䑃䑃
㸷㱕㝄㸷
䞮䣨㒤䞮䣨㭲
䣨䬩
䦖㭲㸷
䫗䳍㸷䧸䣨㸷䧸㸷䕥䳍㷣㝄䑃
䣨䣨䑃䦖㱕
㭲䦖㸷
㸷䧸䅐䔜䞮
䞠㸷䕥䳍䣨
䁀䣨䦖 䕥㸷䑃㒧䑃䦖㒧䧸㝄䞠
䁀䣨䦖 㣾㒧㸷䞮㱕㒧䧸㝄䞠
㿷㸷䕥䞠㸷䧸䑃䦖
䜭䧸㱕 㯰㸷䑃㒧㱕㸷 㭲㸷䕥—
䉑㭲㸷 㻂䧸䬩㒧䧸㒧䑃㭲㸷㱕 㯰㸷㒧䧸㝄 䕥㸷㙷䅐㒧䧸㸷㱕䞠
㣾㱕䊆䅐䧸䑃䦖㸷䞠
䕌㻂䦖 䧸䣨 䞮䣨䧸㝄㸷䕥 㯰䕥㸷䅐㗼㒧䧸㝄䞠
䕌㸷䳍䅐㻂䑃㸷 䧸䣨㒤—
㻂䕥㱕䧸㱕䦖㸷䣨䑃䣨
䧸㸷㒤䞠
䦖䣨䧸㭲㸷㝄㙷㒧䑃
䦖䈓
䁀䣨䦖 㒤㭲䅐䦖 䦖䣨 㯰㸷䳍䣨㙷㸷䞠
䕌㻂䦖 䦖㭲䅐䦖 㯰㸷䳍䣨㙷㒧䧸㝄…
㒧䦖䑃
䧸䣨㒤
㝯䑃䅐
䅐䳍䦖䞠
䉑㭲㸷 䳍䣨䧸㷣㸷䕥㝄㸷䧸䳍㸷 䱵㻂䞮䑃㸷㱕 䅐㝄䅐㒧䧸䞠
䞤䞮䣨㒤㸷䕥 䦖㭲㒧䑃 䦖㒧㙷㸷䞠
㸷䅐㙷䞠㒧䑃䧸䑃㯰䞮㝄
䁀䣨䦖
䁀䣨䦖 䅐㱕䅐䱵䦖㒧䧸㝄䞠
䞤䦖䕥㻂㝄㝄䞮㒧䧸㝄䞠
㒧䦖
䧸䦖䣨
䑃㸷䕌㸷䅐䳍㻂
㭲䅐㱕
㷣㝄㒧㸷䧸
䳍䣨䕥䑃㸷䞠䱵䑃
㒧䦖
䧸䔜䞮䅐㸷
䳍䣨㻂㱕䞮
䦖㸷㒧㭲㙷䣨㝄䑃䧸
䜭 㱕㸷䳍㒧䑃㒧䣨䧸 㒤㒧䦖㭲䣨㻂䦖 䣨㻂䦖䳍䣨㙷㸷䞠
䜭 䑃䦖㸷䱵 㒤㒧䦖㭲䣨㻂䦖 䳍㸷䕥䦖䅐㒧䧸䦖㣾䞠
䣨㙷䕥䬩
㸷㯰
䦖䞠㒧
㻂䳍㱕䣨䞮
㒧㸷㭲䳍䣨䳍
䣨䧸䦖
䦖䅐䦖㭲
䧸㒧㝄㭲䦖㣾䧸䅐
㸷䬩㯰㸷䕥䣨
䕥㷣㱕㸷㒧㸷㱕
䜭
䉑㭲㸷 䅐䧸䳍㒧㸷䧸䦖 㸷䧸䦖㒧䦖㒧㸷䑃 㒤㒧䦖㭲㒧䧸 㒧䦖 䕥㸷䅐䳍䦖㸷㱕—
䁀䣨䦖 䣨㻂䦖㒤䅐䕥㱕䞮㣾䞠
㣾䅐䞠㸷䧸䞮㒧䧸䕥䦖䞮
㻂䕌䦖
䉑㭲㸷㒧䕥 䱵㸷䕥䬩㸷䳍䦖 㙷㸷㙷䣨䕥㣾 䞮䣨䣨䱵䑃 䑃䦖䅐䞮䞮㸷㱕䞠
䉑㭲㸷㒧䕥 䑃䦖䕥㻂䳍䦖㻂䕥㸷䑃 䅐䦖䦖㸷㙷䱵䦖㸷㱕 䦖䣨 䑃㒧㙷㻂䞮䅐䦖㸷 䱵䣨䑃䑃㒧㯰㒧䞮㒧䦖㒧㸷䑃—
䕌㻂䦖
㭲䅐䦖䱵
㸷䳍㭲䅐
䞮䅐䞮䣨䞠㱕㸷䳍䑃䱵
䕌㸷䳍䅐㻂䑃㸷 䧸䣨䧸㸷 䣨䬩 䦖㭲㸷㙷 䞮㸷㱕 䦖䣨 䅐 㝄㻂䅐䕥䅐䧸䦖㸷㸷㱕 䕥㸷䑃䣨䞮㻂䦖㒧䣨䧸䞠
㿂䣨䕥 䦖㭲㸷 䬩㒧䕥䑃䦖 䦖㒧㙷㸷—
㣾㸷䉑㭲
䑃㱕䞮㸷㷣䣨䞠
㙷㸷䦖㝄䧸㒧䣨㭲䑃
㱕䣨㻂䞮䳍
䦖䅐㭲䦖
㸷㯰
䧸䣨䦖
㻂㸷䣨䳍䕥㱕䦖䧸㸷㸷䧸
䝸䧸䞮㣾 䳍㭲䣨䑃㸷䧸䞠
㦗㡯䣨㻂 䬩㸷㸷䞮 㒧䦖㖢 㱕䣨䧸䫗䦖 㣾䣨㻂䫜䅶 䔜䞮㸷䧸䅐 䑃䅐㒧㱕 䵱㻂㒧㸷䦖䞮㣾䞠
䣨㭲䳍㸷䞠
㱕㱕䧸䫗䦖㒧
䣨㷣㸷䳍㒧
㰿㸷䕥
䈓䦖 䅐䧸䳍㭲䣨䕥㸷㱕䞠
䉑㭲㸷 䳍䣨䧸㷣㸷䕥㝄㸷䧸䳍㸷 䕥㸷䑃䱵䣨䧸㱕㸷㱕—䧸䣨䦖 㒤㒧䦖㭲 䞮䣨㝄㒧䳍 䦖㭲㒧䑃 䦖㒧㙷㸷䞠
䑃㣾㯰䞠䧸䦖㒧䦖䞮㒧䅐㒧
㭲䦖㒧㒤
䕌䦖㻂
䈓䦖䑃 䞮䅐㣾㸷䕥㸷㱕 䬩䣨䕥㙷 䦖䕥㸷㙷㯰䞮㸷㱕—㸷㱕㝄㸷䑃 䱵㭲䅐䑃㒧䧸㝄 䬩䅐䑃䦖㸷䕥㖢 㒧䦖䑃 䳍㸷䧸䦖㸷䕥 㒤㒧㱕㸷䧸㒧䧸㝄㖢 䧸䅐䕥䕥䣨㒤㒧䧸㝄㖢 䕥㸷䑃㭲䅐䱵㒧䧸㝄 㒧䧸 䳍㣾䳍䞮㸷䑃 㒧䦖 䳍䣨㻂䞮㱕 䧸䣨䦖 䬩㒧䧸䅐䞮㒧䋶㸷䞠
䈓䦖 㒤䅐䑃 䦖䕥㣾㒧䧸㝄 䦖䣨 㱕㸷䳍㒧㱕㸷䞠
䬩㒧䅐䧸䞮㒧㝄䞠
㱕䧸䜭
䉑㭲㸷 䱵䕥㸷䑃㸷䧸䳍㸷 䅐䕥䣨㻂䧸㱕 䔜䞮㸷䧸䅐 䬩䞮㒧䳍㗼㸷䕥㸷㱕—㱕㒧㙷㖢 㻂䧸䳍㸷䕥䦖䅐㒧䧸䞠
䈓䦖 䳍䅐䧸䧸䣨䦖 䕥㸷䑃䣨䞮㷣㸷 㒤㒧䦖㭲䣨㻂䦖 䳍㸷䕥䦖䅐㒧䧸䦖㣾䞠
䧸䣨㸷㱕㱕㱕
䞮䧸䅐䔜㸷
䞮䞠㣾㝄䦖䑃䞮㒧㭲
㦗䈓 㗼䧸䣨㒤䞠䅶
䞤㭲㸷 䑃䦖㸷䱵䱵㸷㱕 䬩䣨䕥㒤䅐䕥㱕䞠
䣨䦖
䣨䑃䕥㸷䞮㣆
䳍䞠䦖㸷䧸䕥㸷
䦖㸷㭲
㣆䞮䣨䑃㸷䕥 䦖䣨 䦖㭲㸷 䱵䞮䅐䳍㸷 㒧䦖 㭲䅐㱕 㙷䅐㱕㸷 䬩䣨䕥 㭲㸷䕥䞠
㦗䕌㻂䦖 䦖㭲䅐䦖䫗䑃 䦖㭲㸷 䱵䣨㒧䧸䦖䞠䅶
㒧䦖㭲㒤
㒧䦖䧸㝄䧸㸷㝄㒧㭲㖢䦖
㸷䉑㭲
㱕䅐㸷㸷䳍䕥䦖
㙷䣨䬩䕥
䞮㸷㙷㒧㱕—㣾㙷㒧㒧䑃㸷䅐䦖䦖
㷣䞠䦖㸷㸷㙷㙷䧸䣨
䕥㸷㭲
㝄䧸䅐㝄䞮㒧㒧䧸
㭲䧸㒧㻂䧸䬩㸷㱕㒧䑃
㯰䧸㸷㝄㒧
䈓䦖 㒤䅐䑃䧸䫗䦖 䬩䣨䞮䞮䣨㒤㒧䧸㝄䞠
䈓䦖 㒤䅐䑃 㻂䧸㱕㸷䕥䑃䦖䅐䧸㱕㒧䧸㝄 䦖㭲㸷 㱕㒧䕥㸷䳍䦖㒧䣨䧸 䣨䬩 㭲㸷䕥 㒧䧸䦖㸷䧸䦖䞠
㸷㭲䉑
㻂䱵㱕䑃㸷䞮
㸷䳍䧸䳍㷣䕥䣨㝄㸷䧸㸷
䅐㒧㝄䧸䞠䅐
㿂䅐䑃䦖㸷䕥 䧸䣨㒤䞠
䜭䑃 㒧䬩 䦖㭲㸷 䅐䳍䦖 䣨䬩 㭲㸷䕥 䅐䱵䱵䕥䣨䅐䳍㭲㒧䧸㝄 䬩䣨䕥䳍㸷㱕 䦖㭲㸷 㱕㸷䳍㒧䑃㒧䣨䧸 䳍䞮䣨䑃㸷䕥䞠
㿂䣨㱕䳍㸷䕥
䞮㸷㣾㱕䅐
䦖䣨
䕥䧸䳍䦖䣨䣨䬩䧸
䦖㭲䅐㒤
䣨䳍㱕䞮㻂
㸷䬩㸷䣨㷣䕥䕥䞠
䣨䦖䧸
㒧䦖
㒧䦖
䜭 䳍㭲䣨㒧䳍㸷䞠
䔜䞮㸷䧸䅐 䑃䦖䣨䱵䱵㸷㱕 䢇㻂䑃䦖 㯰㸷䬩䣨䕥㸷 䦖㭲㸷 䳍㸷䧸䦖㸷䕥䞠
䞤㭲㸷
㒧䑃㒧㱕䧸䞠㸷
㱕㒧䧸㱕䫗䦖
䦖㸷䑃䱵
䁀䣨䦖 㣾㸷䦖䞠
㦗㡯䣨㻂 䦖㭲㒧䧸㗼 䈓 䳍䣨㙷䱵䞮㸷䦖㸷 㣾䣨㻂㖢䅶 䑃㭲㸷 䑃䅐㒧㱕䞠
㸷㭲䉑
䕥㸷㷣䧸㝄㸷䧸䣨㸷䳍䳍
䦖㒧㱕㸷䞮䑃䞮
㒧㭲䦖㣾䞮䞮䑃㝄䞠
䲣㒧䑃䦖㸷䧸㒧䧸㝄䞠
㦗䕌㻂䦖 䈓 㱕䣨䧸䫗䦖䞠䅶
㖢㸷䱵㱕㸷
㸷䉑㭲
㒧䅐䳍㸷㻂䧸䧸䕥䞠䦖
㷣䣨㱕㒧
㸷㖢䞮㯰䑃㙷—㸷䣨㱕䦖䬩䕥䦖
㦗䕌㸷䳍䅐㻂䑃㸷 㒧䬩 䈓 䑃䦖㸷䱵 㒧䧸 䦖㭲㸷䕥㸷㖢䅶 䑃㭲㸷 䳍䣨䧸䦖㒧䧸㻂㸷㱕㖢
㦗㡯䣨㻂 㱕䣨䧸䫗䦖 㯰㸷䳍䣨㙷㸷 㯰䅐䞮䅐䧸䳍㸷䞠䅶
䜭
㻂䅐䱵㸷䞠䑃
䲣䣨䧸㝄㸷䕥 䦖㭲䅐䧸 䅐䧸㣾䦖㭲㒧䧸㝄 㯰㸷䬩䣨䕥㸷䞠
㦗㡯䣨㻂 㯰㸷䳍䣨㙷㸷 㙷㸷䞠䅶
䉑䦖㭲䅐
㭲㒧䦖䞠
䁀䣨䦖 䅐䑃 䬩䣨䕥䳍㸷䞠
䁀䣨䦖 䅐䑃 䳍䣨䧸䦖䕥䅐㱕㒧䳍䦖㒧䣨䧸䞠
䦖䬩䧸㒧䣨䳍䳍䞮
䑃䜭
㒤㒧㒧㭲䦖䧸
㒧䣨䧸㒧㒧䬩䧸㸷㱕䦖
䬩㒧䦖㸷䞮䑃䞠
䉑㭲㸷 䳍䣨䧸㷣㸷䕥㝄㸷䧸䳍㸷 䑃㭲㒧䬩䦖㸷㱕 㷣㒧䣨䞮㸷䧸䦖䞮㣾—㒧䦖䑃 䞮䅐㣾㸷䕥䑃 㙷㒧䑃䅐䞮㒧㝄䧸㒧䧸㝄㖢 㒧䦖䑃 䑃䦖䕥㻂䳍䦖㻂䕥㸷 䬩䕥䅐䳍䦖㻂䕥㒧䧸㝄 䅐䦖 䦖㭲㸷 㸷㱕㝄㸷䑃 㯰㸷䬩䣨䕥㸷 䱵㻂䞮䞮㒧䧸㝄 㒧䦖䑃㸷䞮䬩 㯰䅐䳍㗼 䦖䣨㝄㸷䦖㭲㸷䕥䞠
䕌㸷䳍䅐㻂䑃㸷 䦖㭲䅐䦖 䣨㻂䦖䳍䣨㙷㸷—
䑙䞮䳍㒧㝄䱵䧸䅐㸷
㒧䦖㸷䧸—㱕䦖㣾㒧
㸷䞮䑃㝄㒧䧸
䳍䧸㸷㣾䧸㒧䦖䅐䕥㻂䦖
䦖㭲㒧㒤
㝯䅐䑃 䧸䣨䦖 㯰䅐䞮䅐䧸䳍㸷䞠
䈓䦖 㒤䅐䑃 㱕䣨㙷㒧䧸䅐䦖㒧䣨䧸 㯰㣾 䬩䣨䕥㙷䞠
䑃㻂㝄㸷䕥㱕
䞠㸷䕥㭲
䉑㭲㸷
㯰㸷䧸㝄㒧
㒧㭲㒧䬩䧸㸷䧸㱕㻂䑃
㯰㸷㸷㱕䑃㒧
䁀䣨䦖 㻂䧸䑃䦖䅐㯰䞮㸷䞠
䑙㸷䑃䣨䞮㻂䦖㸷䞠
䧸㒤䣨䞠
䣨㸷㱕䣨㻂䕥㱕䦖䑃䧸
䦖䈓
䁀䣨䦖 㸷㷣㸷䕥㣾䦖㭲㒧䧸㝄䞠
䕌㻂䦖 㸷䧸䣨㻂㝄㭲䞠
䈓䦖
—㸷䣨㱕㙷㷣
䁀䣨䦖 䦖䣨㒤䅐䕥㱕 䦖㭲㸷 䳍䣨䧸㷣㸷䕥㝄㸷䧸䳍㸷䞠
䉑䣨㒤䅐䕥㱕 䔜䞮㸷䧸䅐䞠
䧸䜭㱕
䧸㭲䦖—㸷
䈓䦖 䑃䦖䣨䱵䱵㸷㱕䞠
㣆㭲䣨䣨䑃㒧䧸㝄 䱵䣨䑃㒧䦖㒧䣨䧸䞠
䧸䑃䣨䣨㝄㭲㣆㒧
㸷䱵䕥䑃䞠㸷㸷䳍䧸
䁀䣨䦖 㙷㸷䕥㝄㒧䧸㝄䞠
䁀䣨䦖 䳍䣨䱵㣾㒧䧸㝄䞠
䦖㑷㒧㝄䑃䔜㒧䧸
㸷㭲䞠䕥
䦖㒤㒧㭲
䉑㭲㸷 䳍䣨䧸㷣㸷䕥㝄㸷䧸䳍㸷 䱵㻂䞮䑃㸷㱕 䅐㝄䅐㒧䧸䞠
䜭䧸㱕 䦖㭲㒧䑃 䦖㒧㙷㸷—
䅐䧸㸷㝄㭲䳍䞠㱕
㸷㙷㝄㭲䧸䣨䞤䦖㒧
䈓䦖 㱕㒧㱕䧸䫗䦖 䕥㸷䅐䳍㭲 䬩䣨䕥 㭲㸷䕥䞠
䈓䦖 㱕㒧㱕䧸䫗䦖 䱵㻂䞮䞮 㭲㸷䕥 䬩䣨䕥㒤䅐䕥㱕䞠
㸷㭲䕥
䦖䈓
䧸䦖䣨㒧
䕥㒧䧸䦖㝄䦖㸷㸷䅐
䫗䧸䦖㱕㒧㱕
䦖㻂䕥㻂䞠㸷䳍䑃䕥䦖
䣨䦖
㸷䦖㙷䦖䅐䱵䦖
䦖䑃㒧
䈓䦖… 㭲㸷䞮㱕䞠
䉑㭲㸷 䱵䕥㸷䑃㸷䧸䳍㸷 䕥㸷䅐䳍䦖㸷㱕 㒧㙷㙷㸷㱕㒧䅐䦖㸷䞮㣾䞠
㒧䑃
䈓䦖
䱵䑃㝄䅐㒧䧸㻂
䦖㭲㸷
䧸㒧䞠㸷䣨䞮䕥䣨䑃䦖㻂
䔜䞮㸷䧸䅐 㸷㑷㭲䅐䞮㸷㱕 䑃䞮䣨㒤䞮㣾䞠
㦗䉑㭲䅐䦖䫗䑃 䦖㭲㸷 䬩㒧䕥䑃䦖 䑃䦖㸷䱵䞠䅶
㸷㸷䱵䞠㱕䧸㸷㱕㸷
㷣㱕㒧䣨
㭲䉑㸷
䁀䣨䦖 㱕䅐䕥㗼㸷䕥䞠
㝯㒧㱕㸷䕥䞠
㸷䦖䬩䑃䞮㒧
䞮㭲㸷㱕
㙷䣨䳍䳍䅐㸷㱕㙷䦖䅐䣨
㒧䦖
㱕䅐㭲
䜭䑃
䦖䣨
㸷䧸㷣㸷䕥
㒧䬩
䱵䑃㸷䳍䅐
䅐㱕䱵㱕䧸㸷㑷㸷
䑃䣨䧸㸷㙷㒧㝄㭲䦖
䞠㸷䕥㸷䣨䬩㯰
䜭䧸 㻂䧸䕥㸷䑃䣨䞮㷣㸷㱕 䑃䦖䅐䦖㸷䞠
䞤㻂䑃䦖䅐㒧䧸㸷㱕䞠
䕥䧸㸷㸷䦖䳍
䧸䣨
䱵䞮㒧䞮㻂䧸㝄
㱕䑃㸷䦖䬩—㒧䦖㒧㭲䑃
䧸㒤㱕䕥㒧䞠䅐
䞮䣨㸷㝄䧸䕥 𝚏𝐫𝚎𝗲𝕨𝐞𝐛𝕟𝚘𝐯𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝗺
㸷㭲䉑
䧸䣨㷣䕥䳍㸷㝄䧸䳍㸷㸷
䁀䣨 䞮䣨䧸㝄㸷䕥 㱕㸷㙷䅐䧸㱕㒧䧸㝄 䳍䣨㙷䱵䞮㸷䦖㒧䣨䧸䞠
䈓䧸䑃䦖㸷䅐㱕—
䣨䧸㸷䞠䱵
㸷䕥㸷㙷㱕䧸䅐㒧
䈓䦖
䊆䧸䬩㒧䧸㒧䑃㭲㸷㱕䞠
䉑㭲㸷 䅐䧸䳍㒧㸷䧸䦖 㸷䧸䦖㒧䦖㒧㸷䑃 㒤㒧䦖㭲㒧䧸 㒧䦖 䬩㸷䞮䞮 䑃䦖㒧䞮䞮 䅐㝄䅐㒧䧸䞠
—䦖㙷㒧㸷
㒧㭲䑃䦖
䕌㻂䦖
䁀䣨䦖 䳍䅐䞮䳍㻂䞮䅐䦖㒧䧸㝄䞠
䝸㯰䑃㸷䕥㷣㒧䧸㝄䞠
㱕䅐㭲
㝄䧸㒧䕥䲣䧸㸷䅐
䦖䣨
㱕㱕㸷㸷䧸㸷
㸷䕥䞮䅐䧸
㸷㸷䧸䕥㷣
䑃䣨䧸㭲㒧㝄㙷䦖㸷
䣨㸷䕥䞠㯰䬩㸷
㭲㸷㣾䦖
㰿䣨㒤 䦖䣨 㸷㑷㒧䑃䦖 㒤㒧䦖㭲䣨㻂䦖 䬩㒧䧸䅐䞮㒧䦖㣾䞠
䔜䞮㸷䧸䅐 䑃䦖㸷䱵䱵㸷㱕 㯰䅐䳍㗼䞠
䕥㝄䅐㒧㸷㸷䞠䕥䦖䧸䦖
䣨䦖䁀
䜭䞮䞮䣨㒤㒧䧸㝄䞠
㦗䉑㭲䅐䦖䫗䑃 㣾䣨㻂䕥 䳍㭲䣨㒧䳍㸷㖢䅶 䑃㭲㸷 䑃䅐㒧㱕 䑃䣨䬩䦖䞮㣾䞠
㦗䁀䣨䦖
䣨䦖
䞠㯰㸷䣨䅶㸷䳍㙷
䉑㭲㸷 䳍䣨䧸㷣㸷䕥㝄㸷䧸䳍㸷 䱵㻂䞮䑃㸷㱕 䣨䧸䳍㸷䞠
㣆䞮㸷䅐䕥䞠
䅐䦖㣾䞤㸷䞠㱕
䊆䧸䕥㸷䑃䣨䞮㷣㸷㱕䞠
䉑㭲㸷 㷣䣨㒧㱕 䕥㸷䑃䱵䣨䧸㱕㸷㱕䞠
䳍䕥䧸㝄㒧䦖㸷䣨䕥䳍䞠
䁀䣨䦖
䁀䣨䦖 䑃䦖䅐㯰㒧䞮㒧䋶㒧䧸㝄䞠
䜭䳍䳍㸷䱵䦖㒧䧸㝄䞠
䣨㿂䕥
䦖㸷㒧—㙷
㭲䦖㸷
䬩䑃䦖䕥㒧
䕌䅐䞮䅐䧸䳍㸷 㱕㒧㱕 䧸䣨䦖 䳍䣨㙷㸷 䬩䕥䣨㙷 䳍䣨䧸䦖䕥䣨䞮䞠
䝸䕥 㙷㸷㙷䣨䕥㣾䞠
䝸䕥
䕥䳍㻂㻂䞠㸷䑃䦖䕥䦖
䕌㻂䦖 䬩䕥䣨㙷 䑃䣨㙷㸷䦖㭲㒧䧸㝄 䬩䅐䕥 㙷䣨䕥㸷 䬩䕥䅐㝄㒧䞮㸷䞠
䞤䣨㙷㸷䦖㭲㒧䧸㝄 䬩䅐䕥 㙷䣨䕥㸷 㱕䅐䧸㝄㸷䕥䣨㻂䑃䞠
䦖䦖䅐㭲
䧸䣨䦖
䦖䞤䣨䧸㒧㝄㙷㸷㭲
䳍䣨㱕䞮㻂
㯰㸷
㱕䣨䦖㸷䑃䞠䕥
㣆䣨㻂䞮㱕 䧸䣨䦖 㯰㸷 䕥㸷䱵㸷䅐䦖㸷㱕䞠
㣆䣨㻂䞮㱕 䧸䣨䦖 㯰㸷 䱵䕥㸷㱕㒧䳍䦖㸷㱕䞠
䣨䳍…㸷㭲㒧䳍
䜭
䉑䣨 䕥㸷㙷䅐㒧䧸 㻂䧸䬩㒧䧸㒧䑃㭲㸷㱕䞠
䔜䞮㸷䧸䅐 䞮䣨䣨㗼㸷㱕 䅐䦖 䦖㭲㸷 㯰㸷㒧䧸㝄 㯰㸷䑃㒧㱕㸷 㭲㸷䕥䞠
䣨㸷䧸㸷—㭲䧸䳍䦖
䬩㒧㗼䳍䕥㱕㸷㸷䞮
䦖䈓
㸷䑃䦖䅐㸷㱕㒧㱕
䅐㝄㒧䞠䧸䅐
䁀䣨䦖 䱵㸷䕥䬩㸷䳍䦖䞠
䁀䣨䦖 䳍䣨㙷䱵䞮㸷䦖㸷䞠
㻂䕌䦖
䞮䦖䬩㒧㸷䞠䑃
䜭䧸㱕 䬩䣨䕥 䦖㭲㸷 䬩㒧䕥䑃䦖 䦖㒧㙷㸷 䑃㒧䧸䳍㸷 䑃䦖㸷䱵䱵㒧䧸㝄 㯰㸷㣾䣨䧸㱕 䦖㭲㸷 㱕䣨䣨䕥—
䔜䞮㸷䧸䅐 㹟䣨䑃䑃 㱕㒧㱕 䧸䣨䦖 䬩㸷㸷䞮 䞮㒧㗼㸷 䦖㭲㸷 㯰䣨㻂䧸㱕䅐䕥㣾䞠
䦖㸷䧸䞠䳍䣨㑷㸷㒧䱵
䕥䝸
㭲䦖㸷
䝸䕥 䦖㭲㸷 䅐䧸䣨㙷䅐䞮㣾䞠
䞤㭲㸷 䬩㸷䞮䦖 䞮㒧㗼㸷 䑃䣨㙷㸷䦖㭲㒧䧸㝄 㸷䞮䑃㸷 㸷䧸䦖㒧䕥㸷䞮㣾䞠
䦖㭲㸷
䧸㸷㸷㷣䕥
㯰㸷䞠䣨䬩㸷䕥
㭲䅐㱕
䅐䦖䧸䣨㸷㒧㱕䧸䳍
䞤䦖䧸㝄䣨㙷㭲㸷㒧
㱕㒧㷣䣨
䁀䣨䦖 䅐 䕥㻂䞮㸷䞠
䁀䣨䦖 䅐 㯰䕥㸷䅐㗼 㒧䧸 䦖㭲㸷 䑃㣾䑃䦖㸷㙷䞠
㝄䞠㒧䧸㝄㸷㒧䧸㯰䧸
㻂䕌䦖
䅐
䜭䧸㱕 䅐䑃 䦖㭲㸷 䳍䣨䧸㷣㸷䕥㝄㸷䧸䳍㸷 㭲㸷䞮㱕 㒧䦖䑃 䬩䣨䕥㙷—
䊆䧸䕥㸷䑃䣨䞮㷣㸷㱕䞠
㒧㒧䬩㸷㱕䧸㭲䧸䊆䞠䑃
䜭䞮㒧㷣㸷 㒧䧸 䅐 㒤䅐㣾 㒧䦖 㭲䅐㱕 䧸㸷㷣㸷䕥 㯰㸷㸷䧸—
䉑㭲㸷 㷣䣨㒧㱕 㱕㒧㱕 䑃䣨㙷㸷䦖㭲㒧䧸㝄 㒧㙷䱵䣨䑃䑃㒧㯰䞮㸷䞠
䦖䈓
㒧㱕㱕
䣨䦖䧸
䞮䞠䣨㸷䑃䳍
䈓䦖 㱕㒧㱕 䧸䣨䦖 䕥㸷䑃㸷䦖䞠
䈓䦖 㱕㒧㱕 䧸䣨䦖 䕥㸷㙷㸷㙷㯰㸷䕥䞠
䳍䦖㸷䧸㱕䣨㒧䞠䧸㻂
䈓䦖
䜭䧸㱕 䑃䣨㙷㸷㒤㭲㸷䕥㸷 䬩䅐䕥 㯰㸷㣾䣨䧸㱕 䅐䞮䞮 䣨䬩 㒧䦖—
䞤䣨㙷㸷䦖㭲㒧䧸㝄 䅐䧸䑃㒤㸷䕥㸷㱕 䦖㭲䅐䦖 䳍䣨䧸䦖㒧䧸
